


The Passenger Seat

by Cuda (Scylla)



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4710416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scylla/pseuds/Cuda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story diverts from canon prior to the beginning of Furious 7. Brian usually wants control of the steering wheel - but not with Dom. Well. Of course he still wants the steering wheel. But riding shotgun for Dominic Toretto is an unexpected pleasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Passenger Seat

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written Fast & Furious fic since Paul's death. Losing him was horrible beyond my capacity to explain. Even now, if I have Don Omar on my car stereo and hit the highway at the right time of sunset, it aches. Then I ran across the song "Locked Away" by R. City with Adam Levine [[here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67CQeBlO_rw)] and this little story poured out. I miss writing for the movies, and I sincerely hope there will be more new fic where this came from.

Brian O'Conner wasted most of his life riding shotgun and hated it. He hated being a passenger; hated letting someone else make his decisions for him.

He leaned on the windowsill of a sleek red Chevelle, pushing his forehead into the wind, and realized he'd been misreading this whole thing.

Dom launched them down a curving stretch of road on the northern coast of the Dominican Republic, beside a hammered copper ocean. The highway poured out in long, languid rolls like the muscles of a snake, views of the beach to Brian's right abbreviated by lush green trees. His surfboard was in the back seat with their duffels, a soccer ball, and the promise of a weekend with nothing to do.

Brian pushed his sunglasses down as the sun dropped below the visors' reach, tipped his head back, and grinned like he was never gonna quit. He understood more than a few words of the music blaring from Dom's radio; more every day, and wasn't surprised to find out it was pretty much like the music in the languages he already knew.

People with heartaches. People with crushes. People and love, people and love all the time. It wasn't his thing, but he liked the melodies and the thick, shuffling percussion. He liked it because it reminded him of Dom and Letty, Mia and Rome and Tej and the rest, even when they weren't around him.

With Dom, he didn't mind being in the passenger seat. This shotgun thing was actually pretty nice. Whatever made the difference, it was pretty much exclusive to Dominic Toretto. Brian wasn't much for introspection, but even for him, the realization was a simple one.

He'd slipped up somewhere in his arithmetic. No surprise there, he'd always been shit at emotional math. But hating the passenger seat had more to do with the driver than the location. Most other people, Brian wouldn't hand over the steering wheel unless someone was bleeding (happened more than you'd think).

Dom, though.

It was all fine with Dom.

Not because Brian somehow trusted Dom more than, say, Rome or Tej or Mia. Not because they were sharing a bed. A little tail - even really fucking hot tail - couldn't fog up Brian's head after the hell he'd gone through with the Torettos at twenty-three.

Dom didn't have him strapped in for a mystery ride. Dom hated riding shotgun as bad as Brian. Brian had Dom's respect, and Dom's empathy for the hundred little traumas they'd both undergone. Dom would hate it, but he'd hand over the wheel. With Dom, Brian knew where he was going - because they were almost always going the same direction anyway. The wary bits of his brain clicked off, at least as much as they were ever going to.

Brian relaxed a little more into the bucket seat, and let his fingers do a slow crawl up Dom's thigh.

Yeah.

He was fine. It was all fine.


End file.
